


Claiming the bowman

by Thepurebloodprincess



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bard, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Top Thranduil, there is some plot but mainly porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thepurebloodprincess/pseuds/Thepurebloodprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil asks Bard to come to him in Dale before the battle. There, in his tent, Thranduil wishes to claim Bard as his own. </p><p>A lot of fluff and also a lot of smut, because Barduil is my otp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Claiming the bowman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hiitscarlsen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiitscarlsen/gifts).



> I usually just write fluff, but Barduil smut is hard to resist. I really love this pairing, and I hope I captured their personalities well.  
> Edited by hiitscarlsen, thank you for your help :)
> 
> I obviously don't own any of the characters, they belong to Tolkien.

Thranduil sat upon his throne, his legs crossed neatly and his slender fingers gently tapping the armrests. His blond hair cascaded down his shoulders and almost reached down to his slender waist.   
One of his guards, clad in golden armor, entered the tent. He kneeled before his king.  
Thranduil leaned back in his chair.  
“Bring Bard the Bowman to me” He said.  
“As you wish, My lord” The guard replied and exited the tent with a graceful bow.   
A few minutes later, the guard returned, followed by Bard.  
He did not possess the grace his elves did when they walked, but he was swift and confident in his stride, the fierce swaying of his hips catching the elven lord's attention for a moment. He wore brown breeches stained with dirt and a thick cloak lined with fur. His jawline was sharp underneath his stubble, which had not been trimmed for a few days. His unruly curls looked black in the candlelight, and his dark eyes were questioning. As a true warrior, he carried his weapons with him wherever he went.   
Thranduil waved his guard over, who immediately obeyed. Thranduil paused when he was inches away from the guards ear, but did not break eye contact with Bard. The bowman did not look away either, but the elven lord could see him shift under the pressure of his gaze.  
“I do not wish to be disturbed tonight.” He whispered in elvish.  
The guard nodded and disappeared, sealing the tent shut behind him. Bard threw a glance over his shoulder, one of his hands lingering on his hip, occasionally brushing the handle of his sword. Thranduil was not sure whether it was out of habit or if his presence had made Bard nervous.  
The corners of Thranduil's mouth twitched upwards into a smirk as he poured wine in his goblet.  
“Welcome, King of Dale” Thranduil exclaimed.  
Bard chuckled and shook his head, his hair dancing around his face.   
“I am no king, my lord.” He said, his voice darker than Thranduil had remembered it. “Bard will do.”  
“You are a King now, whether you wish it or not. But I did not call you here to debate politics with you, Bard the bowman.”  
“Why did you call me? It is getting late, do elves not need to rest?” He asked and then bit his lip, realizing the edge of his words too late.  
Thranduil's face remained expressionless as he raised his goblet to take a sip of his wine. It left a light stain of red on his pale lips. Slowly, he dragged his tongue across his lips to remove the droplets. Bard looked away and shuffled backwards, his back almost touching the canvas.  
Thranduil cocked his head.  
“Do you fear me, Bard?” Thranduil asked, tilting his chin upwards and placing his cup down.  
Bard was silent for a moment, then shook his head.  
“You showed my people great kindness” He replied, his voice hesistant.  
“That did not answer my question” Thranduil noticed, drumming his fingers against the armrest again.  
Bard watched his movement closely.  
“I do not, my Lord.” He finally decided, his eyes again moving up to meet those of the King. Thranduil smirked.  
“Come closer.” He ordered.  
Bard took a few doubting steps forward, before dropping to his knees. When he bowed his head, his hair fell before his face and revealed the tanned skin of his neck. Thranduil had to resist the urge to reach out and brush his hair away. Instead, a low, but sharp laugh escaped his lips.  
“Do not bow to me now, stand up.” Thranduil ordered, and Bard responded. “Rid yourself of your weapons and your coat.”  
To this, Bard froze and raised his eyebrow. He made no move to obey, but watched the King with caution.  
Thranduil spread his arms, motioning to the empty room.  
“You are safe here. Make yourself comfortable.You need not carry weapons here.”  
Bard scanned the tent, before loosening his belt and dropping it, his sword clinging as it hit the floor. It was followed by his quiver and his longbow, before he shrugged off his heavy coat and revealed a beige tunic.  
It was low cut and rewarded Thranduil with more tanned skin. Bard pulled a dagger from his boot, laughing as he saw Thranduil cock his head. He weighed it in his hand for a few seconds.  
“I do not know what you are hiding underneath there, my lord. For all I know, you could be very well armed.” Bard said, motioning to the King's embroided gley cloak.  
He placed the dagger on the table beside him carefully, and Thranduil wondered if it had value to him. Thranduil rose up from his throne, standing almost a head taller before Bard. Bard leaned backwards a little, but did not move. Thranduil came closer until he was only a strides length away from Bard and reached out his hand to touch his shoulder. It was not a hesitant touch, rather just a light one, but Thranduil could feel the shivers running through the man.  
“Would you wish to find out?” He whispered, just loud enough for Bard to hear.  
Bard turned his head towards Thranduil so swiftly the tips of his hair brushed Thranduil's neck.  
“W-what?” He stuttered, his muscles tensing underneath the gentle touch.  
Thranduil smirked, radiating a confidence and power that would have intimidated most, but Bard still stood his ground.  
He leaned in closer this time, so that his mouth was inches away from his ear. He could feel the warmth radiating from the man, could smell the woods and the mountains and the rivers on him. It was not a smell he was used to, and one he would usually disregard as filthy, but on Bard, it stimulated his sense and sent a wave of heat rushing through his body.   
“Hwest nîn anîra dhâf moe vathad flâd lîn; anîra golilthad lîn”  
Bard's breath hitched in his throat as the breath tickled his ear and the elvish language rolled of the elf’s tongue. Although he did not understand what had been said, it sounded soft and beautiful to him.  
“I-I'm sorry, M-My lord, I- I do not speak your tongue.”  
Thranduil rested his fingers underneath Bard's chin and gently lifted it up so he could look into his eyes. The roughness of his stubble scraped along Thranduil's smooth fingers, sending goosebumps down his arms. There was insecurity in Bard's eyes, and a hint of confusion, but also anticipation and curiousity.  
“My breath desires permission to caress thy skin; it desires to dance with thine” Thranduil whispered, tilting Bard's chin towards his.  
Bard chuckled.  
“I thought great kings like you took what they wanted without needing permission.” He replied, trying to conceal the effect those words had on him.   
Thranduil licked his lips.  
“I would, but I have no desire to claim you without your permission. I must admit that I would not have invited you her without suspecting you would be willing, though.” He drawled.  
Bard smiled and closed his eyes, before nodding slightly.  
“Then you would be right. I give you permission, my lord.” He said.  
“I always am” Thranduil replied.  
He gently guided Bard's face closer to his with his touch and let his lips brush his. For a moment, Thranduil took in the feeling of the man's chapped lips trembling against his, before he leaned in to properly capture his lips. Bard was quick to respond, his lips more urgent and wreckless than Thranduil.   
He rested a hand on his chest and brushed the bare skin with his cold hands, earning a gasp from Bard. Thranduil took this as an opportunity and slipped his tongue into Bard's mouth, who met him in a battle for dominance. Bard was taken aback by Thranduil's sudden force and soon gave up, allowing him to explore.   
Thranduil withdrew and Bard whimpered at the loss of warmth, which triggered a smile from Thranduil that made him blush. He realized he had not seen Thranduil smile properly, only that smirk of his.  
“Strip for me.” The king ordered.  
“If you wish to see me shirtless, I bid you do it yourself” Bard replied, a smug grin on his face.  
He raised his arms slightly, gazing at Thranduil with a challenging expression.   
Thranduil was unreadable for a moment, then he placed his hands on either side of him, careful not to touch anything but fabric, and pulled the shirt up. Bard raised his arms, and as he was blinded by his shirt, it was roughly pulled off and before he could do anything to resist, Thranduil had spun him around.  
With one swift motion, he removed everything from the table and pushed Bard down onto it. His chest collided with the wood in a manner that knocked the breath out of him. His hardening cock was now trapped between him and the edge of the table, and he tried to wiggle away to give him some relief from the discomfort. One of his hands had been pinned back by Thranduil, and he was yet again surprised by the strength of elves. He knew that Thranduil had him in a vulnerable position, and a part of him feared it and yelled at him to free himself, while another enjoyed the elf's roughness.  
“Remember, I do not take orders from you” Thranduil spat.  
Bard chuckled, feeling Thranduil's fingers digging into his wrist and knowing he would be bruised the next morning.  
“You just did, my lord.” He replied cheekily.  
With some difficulty he turned his head to look at Thranduil, his eyes darkened with passion, silently begging to be touched. He thrusted his hips back, barely reaching Thranduil's hips, who took a graceful step back.  
He swung his hand backwards and hit Bard's bottom with a loud smack. Bard gasped and bit his lip, eyes watering. He cursed when Thranduil grabbed his hair and tugged harshly.   
“If you do not like my authority or my way, you are free to leave” Thranduil stated, clenching his hand and taking a deep breath, worried he had overestimated Bard and judged wrongly of him.  
However, Bard quickly shook his head.  
“No, I apologize, No - I do not wish to leave, please.” He mumbled.  
Thranduil loosened the grip on his hair and released hold of his arm to touch his naked back. He had prominent muscles from years of hard work, muscles which flexed underneath his touch. There was something about the mixture of rough and gentle touches that had an effect on Bard and made his body react in a way it never had. Despite the chilliness of the elf, his skin felt like it was on fire, like he had broken out into a fever. Thranduil bent down over him, his silky hair tracing over Bard's skin, making him shiver. He paused to nibble on his ear, pressing his groin against Bard bottom, thrusting lightly. Bard moaned and dug his nails into the wood.  
“Do you feel the effect you have on me, Bard?” Thranduil whispered. “Stand up”  
Thranduil stepped away and pulled Bard with him, capturing him in a passionate kiss as soon as he stood straight. He pressed his clothed upper body against Bard, who held his hands at his sides. Thranduil frowned and pulled back, his lips swollen from the kiss.  
“You are allowed to touch me, you know.” He said, a hint of worry in his voice now.  
“I-” Bard began, his cheeks painted a deep red.  
Thranduil smirked and began working on loosening the silver clasps that help together his cloak. It had looked complicated (unnecessarily so) to Bard, but Thranduil had unfastened it within seconds and painfully slowly shrugged it off, revealing nothing but smooth, porcelain skin.   
If such a thing as perfection excisted, Thranduil had to be the definition of it. He was tall and slender, his body completely in proportion. His arms were toned and he had defined abs, but he was in no way broad. He was built for fighting, but in a completely different way than Bard was. Whereas Bard had scars and marks scattered all across his body, Thranduil had a flawless complexion. Bard wondered if Thranduil would allow him to mark him in any way, or if his pride was too great for that. He chewed on his lip as his eyes moved down towards his manhood. It was, like Thranduil himself, long and slender, and strutted out from neat pale hair. Bard traced the elven King’s defined collarbones with his roughened hand, afraid he would somehow hurt the elf if he used too much pressure. His other hand went to the slight curve of his hip and rested there.   
“Y-you are beautiful” Bard whispered, aware of the fact that Thranduil probably heard it often and knew it himself, but not able to take all of him in. It was too much, he was too perfect. Bard was not worthy of such a flawless creature. He trembled against Thranduils chest, who caught his hand as he was about to drop it.   
“Are you alright, Meleth nin?” Thranduil asked and raised Bard's hand to his lips, pressing butterfly kisses to it.  
Bard nodded, tracing a trail around Thranduil’s nipple, who shivered from his touch. He was not certain what the elvish words meant, but Thranduil had said it with fondness and care in his voice, one that made Bard want to embrace the other man.  
“Yes. I just… I just don’t know how to please you” He blushed, leaning in to nibble at the Elf’s neck.  
Thranduil entwined his fingers into Bard’s messy hair and pulled him closer so their chests touched, soft skin brushing against dark hair and scar tissue. Bard pressed his lips to the tip of Thranduil’s sensitive ear, triggering a gasp. Bard chuckled and repeated the motion, enjoying the way the elf lord leaned in to him and massaged his scalp to encourage him.  
“Get down on your knees” Thranduil hissed between gritted teeth.  
Bard dropped down, now levelled with Thranduils hard cock. He glanced up at the king, his eyeslashes fluttering. Thranduil smirked.  
“Please me, Bard the bowman” He whispered.  
The blush on his cheeks deepened to a dark rose shade, setting a contrast against his tanned skin. Carefully, his eyes still locked with the Kings icy blue ones, he leaned forward and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth, wrapping his warm hand around the base. Then he swallowed as much of the King as he could, closing his eyes and trying to resist the gag reflex as his throat stretched.  
“Breathe through your nose, Meleth nin” Thranduil mused.  
Bard hummed in reply, sending pleasant vibrations through Thranduil’s throbbing heat. Thranduil moaned as he could hear Bard inhale before starting to bob his head up and down his length, covering what he could not reach with his mouth with his hand. Thranduil tugged at his hair, trying to time his thrusts with Bard’s movement, slowly losing himself in the tingling sensation which was building in the pit of his stomach.   
He wished to finish like this, to fill Bard’s mouth with his seeds and watch them run down his stubble, to fuck himself into that warm cave, but this was not the time for that. He wished to claim Bard as his tonight, and he was sure there would be time for games later.   
Thranduil took a deep breath and then gently tugged at Bard’s hair, who released his cock with a wet pop and licked his lips slowly, teasing the king. His eyes were dark with lust.  
“Get up. I want you on the bed, on your hands and knees” Thranduil growled, pulling him up. “Now!”  
Bard obeyed and stumbled over to the large four poster bed, which was covered with pillows and furs. He stripped off his boots and breeches, revealing his hard cock and letting it spring free. He crawled across the sheets, giving Thranduil a nice view of his round, bare bottom. Thranduil rummaged through one of the shelves and found a phial of oil. He rested a knee on the bed beside Bard, stroking his lower back in gentle circling motions. Thranduil coated his fingers in oil and traced his entrance, teasing Bard with caresses that were far from enough to satisfy him.   
Slowly, he pushed his slim finger through the tight ring of muscles, feeling Bard tense underneath him.  
“Bard, relax. I do not wish to harm you.” Thranduil whispered into his ear, pressing their bodies together.   
Slowly, Thranduil pushed his finger into him and cupped Bard's balls with his other hand, earning a loud moan from him. Thranduil added a second finger and started stretching him as he started working his hand up and down his shaft, leaving Bard in a writhing, moaning mess. He tried bucking in time with Thranduil's thrusts, but the elf held him in place.  
“Are you ready for more, Bard the bowman?” Thranduil whispered into his ear, nipping at his jaw.  
Bard whimpered at the loss when Thranduil pulled his fingers out, but those were quickly replaced with Thranduils slender cock. He rested the tip against the entrance and stroke Bard with a firmer grip, feeling that he was getting close to an orgasm. Bard tensed at the intrusion and tried to move away, but Thranduil held him in place with both hands. His fingers massaged his soft skin lightly to move his focus elsewhere. Slowly, he pushed further inside and Bard let out a strangled groan at the burning pain.  
Thranduil stopped as he pushed all the way inside and brushed Bard’s hair behind his ear so he could study his face. A tear ran down his flustered cheek, which Thranduil softly wiped away.  
“Are you okay, gorgeous?” Thranduil whispered, a fondness in his voice that made Bard melt against him and forget the fading pain.  
He smiled and placed a kiss against Thranduil’s hand, before nodding.  
“Yes, keep going.” Bard muttered, his breath coming out in low pants.  
Thranduil smirked.  
“Are you certain you can take me?” He asked, his voice back to its teasing and sensual tone.  
Bard chuckled.  
“just fuck me already, my lord.” Bard groaned as he tried to push back intro Thranduil, who held him in place.  
“I do not follow commands, but you have served me well so I shall grant you this.” Thranduil drawled   
Thranduil pulled out until his tip rested against Bard’s entrance and then slammed inside, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing through his head.  
Bard let out a moan and arched his back as Thranduil set a fast, rough pace. Sweat made his hair stick to his forehead, and the feeling of Thranduils hair brushing his back pushed him towards a climax. He was certain he would be bruised tomorrow, as Thranduil held him with a strong, possessive grip.  
“My lord, please” Bard stuttered, closing his eyes and digging his fingers into the sheets, meeting his thrusts.  
Thranduil leaned over him, pressing their bodies together and melting into the man, allowing his warmth to transfer to him. He slowed down slightly and placed one of his hands beside Bard’s for support.  
Thranduil lingered his lips on top of Bard’s head, before placing a kiss and moving to his ear.  
Bard moved his hand, his other arm trembling at the weight he held up, to entwine his fingers with Thranduil’s. The elven king frowned for a second and stared at their joined hands in confusion, before smiling.   
He moved his free hand towards Bard’s leaking cock and pumped it with slow motions, lightly caressing the tip.  
Bard moaned and arched his back against him.  
“My lord, I’m so close. I-I’m going to” Bard choked out.  
“Say my name.” Thranduil growled, grabbing his chin and twisting it towards him.  
Bard closed his eyes, but Thranduil tightened his grip.  
“No, don’t you dare. Look at me and say it” He hissed.  
Bard opened his eyes, the brown orbs hazed and dark, his gaze pleading. He parted his lips and Thranduil brushed them with his.  
“Thranduil” He whispered, his name rolling off his tongue.  
It sounded strange and foreign coming from Bard, but also like it was supposed to be there. Thranduil kissed him and with a final thrust, Bard arched his back and came, muttering Thranduil’s name into his mouth. It sent Thranduil over the edge, and with a hoarse moan, he spilled his seeds deep into Bard.   
Bard collapsed underneath him, but Thranduil wrapped his arms around of him for support. Thranduil pulled out of him and flipped them around so he was lying down on the soft four poster bed, tucking Bard’s head into his chest. Bard wrapped around him, panting hot air at the crook of Thranduil’s neck. Bard sighed and his eyelids fluttered shut. He mumbled something into Thranduil’s chest, the humming vibrating through his heart. The elf smiled and placed a kiss on his head.  
“Sleep now, Bard the bowman. Tomorrow will be a long day.”


End file.
